


An Understanding

by Reily96



Series: Menphina Helps Those Who Help Themselves [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Google Drive is my beta, I AM PLANTING THE SEED OF FRIENDSHIP HERE, I cant think of anything else to say may add more later, Pre-Relationship, a lot of background on my personal drg, another reminder that this series features no wols to speak of, but not a wol, eorzea has a racism problem, how many times I gotta say three azure dragoons, post-ARR but pre-Heavensward, references to archery job quests, references to drg job quests, thanks google, the mc is a catgoon and disaster of light adjacent, there's really not too much to this one, warrior of light who dat, you gotta have the friendship before you have the fuckin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reily96/pseuds/Reily96
Summary: Supplementary part of "Menphina Helps Those Who Help Themselves." Prequel.A small-time adventurer turned dragoon of Ishgard, Rumi wanders through Coerthas to see what it is she now fights for. Estinien doubts her sincerity.
Series: Menphina Helps Those Who Help Themselves [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710415
Kudos: 3





	An Understanding

It was cold. Not an unusual thing in Coerthas; even so, it seemed colder than usual. The biting chill of the wind stung at her face, and Rumi found herself wishing that she had brought her helm. Dragoon helms were not built for the ears of a Miqo’te, so she usually forewent it in favor of keeping one of her most useful senses… But weather like this wasn’t so agreeable to her ears. If anything, it seemed like the weather was only going to get worse too. Snow was beginning to fall, and the wind refused to die down. Perhaps it was a blizzard…

With a grimace, she continued to move towards her destination. If a blizzard was incoming, she would have to take care of her business in the Eastern Highlands quickly. It might’ve been a sign from Halone – she’d been travelling throughout the Highlands for the majority of her day, and she did so look forward to meeting up with Colette later for tea and sweets by a warm fire. The Keeper tried to push that to the back of her mind, however. While the thought of a nice warm fire and good company was delightful, she didn’t want the promise of it to make her rush through her reason for being out here in the first place. Luckily, the weather wasn’t so awful that visibility was too much of an issue. She could see her destination from the top of the hill she traversed.

Compared to other places she had visited that day, such as Hemlock in the Western Highlands, this place was old. Yet what remained of it was telling. Even covered in years of snowfall, there were scattered chunks of masonry and blackened doors hanging off their hinges still visible. No building had been able to withstand the carnage that befell this place, and the same could be said for the land around it as well. The walk to this place had seen scattered hills, mostly untraveled, leaving only an untouched and vast blanket of snow… but the snow here was disheveled and uneven, its perfect silhouette disrupted by the large tracts of unnaturally disturbed earth beneath that fell into the village itself… Earth broken apart by a battle between man and dragon that waged for three days, the battle that Alberic would call his last as Azure Dragoon.

Rumi began her solemn trek through the ruins of Ferndale. In her mind’s eye she tried to imagine what this place was once like, before the Calamity, and before Nidhogg and his Horde. It was a little difficult; she had never been to Ishgard before the Calamity, but luckily, she had Colette to give her an idea. The Ishgardian native had told her all about the sunlight and blue skies; a sea of grass that the eye couldn’t see the end of, where all sorts of life teemed. They hadn’t been said in those  _ exact _ words, of course, more like “Th’ grass was greener th’n a new squire inna mock battle!” But it let the Miqo’te paint a picture of a lively, but poor village. A small community able to make do with the resources around them, as the grasslands provided sustenance for animals and the creatures that would prey on the livestock likely made for great meals on their own. As she passed through dilapidated, snow covered houses, she imagined the people of the village chatting away, talking about the latest harvest or discussing their trades. A tough, but livable life, its people hardy from years of living with their lot.

Trying to guess what it may have been only made the emptiness of the place now feel all the more potent.

With a grimace, she had noticed she reached the other side of the village – the one side of it where the earth had not been upturned. Like everything else in the vicinity, the stone tablets standing upright in the ground were covered in snow. It was not a proper cemetery by any means – there were no gates, fences, or monuments to Halone; only the stone tablets, added later at the request of Alberic Bale in an attempt to offer comfort to the lone survivor of what had occurred here. In truth, she doubted it worked considering the disposition of said survivor… Nonetheless, though Alberic may have said it was less out of goodwill and more out of guilt, Rumi found the gesture admirable.

With the snowfall coming faster and heavier, the Miqo’te decided it was best to conclude her business there. She knelt down, sinking into the snow, closing her eyes and offering a prayer to those who lost their lives all those years ago. If Halone had heard her prayers or even gave a toss about them, she had no idea, but she was willing to try. And with her silent petition to the deity finished, she opened her eyes… only to notice something that she hadn’t noticed while she stood: indentations in the snow. And considering the amount of snowfall the area usually received and that there was snowfall  _ now _ …

She stood and shifted her gaze this way and that, until her eyes finally came upon a figure watching her, his black armor having blended in with the charred and broken remains of the house he stood by.

_ Just my luck… _ To visit this specific place at the same time as him… Halone must have had a cruel sense of humor.

The crunch of snow as he approached her set her nerves on edge. Rumi had seen him plenty in the presence of other dragoons since she had joined ranks. With very few exceptions, none had known what had occurred in the Steel Vigil, and he certainly hadn’t made a show of keeping his promise to her or Colette in Ishgard proper. But would he here, while it was just the two of them? Given the significance of this place to him, she had hoped not. A small sense of relief settled, however, when he stopped about six fulms away from her, seeming to study her, not baring his lance. That was no reason to drop her guard, however; he may not have been holding out his weapon, but there was a tenseness in his stance, one that told her he was prepared to strike should  _ she _ start anything. She had no plans to do so, but stood her ground, unwilling to be intimidated.

“What are you doing here?” Something in his tone was accusatory, offended.

A question she was all too familiar with growing up in the Twelveswood. She scowled, taking extra measures to make sure her vocal tic would not bleed into her speech from her out of annoyance, “Am I not allowed to offer a prayer to the fallen?” 

"You misunderstand.” She blinked at his response, which was just as irritated when he first spoke, and only seemed to grow more so as he elaborated upon his meaning. “I would not turn away your strength in the fight against Nidhogg. However, you needn’t have pledged your lance to Ishgard to do so. When I asked what you are doing here, I am asking you what it is you hope to gain by your actions. Do you expect to take a measure of glory for a war that is not yours, that you have not suffered through? The Eye may have chosen you to be an Azure Dragoon, but you have no right to be here. That you would stand with  _ him _ only shows your ignorance.”

Estinien’s vitriolic words actually opened her eyes to the true nature of this conversation. It was not the familiar condescension she had faced in the Shroud, but a nerve still left raw from the events at the Steel Vigil. It was something raw and visceral and extremely personal to him, summed up perfectly by Alberic when he had said,  _ “The desire to protect and the desire to avenge are opposing forces that can be ill reconciled. Worse, the latter only serves to cloud his sense of self.” _ Because the Dragonsong War was his life; Ferndale set him on the path to become a dragoon. And when she considered what he had just said with this knowledge… it did seem rather disingenuous, even if her intentions were honest.

Nonetheless, Rumi knew she had to choose her words carefully. With her animosity smothered, she tilted her head in thought. “That is precisely why I am here, though. I cannot understand.” Because that was the absolute truth of it. Even in the Twelveswood where she grew up, she knew little of the conflict with Garlemald. Carteneau was only a story she heard from her father’s letters, and the most she ever dealt with was infighting with other Keeper Miqo’te over resources when the Gridanians had been particularly unbearable. “I haven’t been through your hardships, through Ishgard’s hardships. I have not suffered the flames and deaths brought upon the dragons.” While her father was absent for most of her life, it was because her mother had deemed she have as little contact with him as possible, not because he was dead. She couldn’t even claim to have been close to anyone she knew who had died. The pain of loss was as foreign to her as being involved in war.

Yet there she was, involving herself in a one that she needn’t be involved in. And why? Because she felt she could make a difference. Both Colette and Alberic thought so, too. Maybe it was childish, that their belief in her was the sole draw of her enlisting in Ishgard’s military… but it was a belief in her that she was so unused to seeing. Rejected from the Wood Wailers, rejected by Gridanians, heck, even rejected by her own mother for wanting to go out and see what life was like beyond the forest. That they had offered her a place in an otherwise unwelcoming world was something she had no idea she had wanted so badly. So even though she knew not of loss or war, she would fight for those who gave her a place.

Their cause was her cause now, and that also meant she had to try and see the things that they had seen. Obviously, she could not experience what they had, and a part of her wasn’t even sure she wanted to, but she could remind herself that enlisting was a serious matter, far beyond just her finding a place for herself. That meant seeing for herself what was lost, and what was at stake. With that, she found herself able to conclude on, “I can only visit the places that have suffered the worst, to offer my condolences, and to remind me of what I now fight for.”

If her answer placated Estinien, however, she was unaware. With the visor of his helm down, it was difficult to gauge anything from any expression she could not see. Yet she wasn’t sure if her eyes were tricking her when she thought she might have seen something shift in his posture. He still stood at the ready, prepared for a confrontation should it arise but Rumi could have sworn she saw his shoulder relax ever so slightly. Yet there was still no other response; he did not even speak.

The Miqo’te remained rooted to her place. At this moment, she felt like she was dealing with a trapped animal. Any sudden movements might set off the wrong kind of reaction in Estinien, and she’d no desire to fight someone that should have been her ally. But the silence was heavy. Whereas moments ago she had been satisfied with her answer to him, now doubt began to creep up on her…

The weather, however, seemed to be on her side. A snow flurry blew between them, staggering both of them. A violent shiver ran up her spine as she caught herself, hugging herself in an attempt to retain what little warmth that gale had taken from her. Now was not the time for posturing; a blizzard was most certainly coming in.

“If it’s all the same to you, I will be taking my leave now. I would prefer if my ears did not freeze off.” She readjusted herself to begin the Return to Ishgard, but paused, giving Estinien one last look. “You should probably Return as well. Better safe than sorry…”

Again, he remained unreadable, leaving her with only the silent image of him as she returned to Ishgard, unsure of how to register their latest interaction.

In the Aetheryte Plaza she glanced around, attempting to see if he had made a Return as well. But she saw no black dragoon armor appear and found herself fretting. She shook her head,  _ Nya, don’t worry for him. He is an adult that can make his own choices. He needn’t be coddled. _ Yet she found when she thought of him as just an angry and confused man, she couldn’t  _ not _ care. But there was nothing to be done for it.

She sighed and noted that the blizzard she had escaped from seemed confined to the eastern highlands. In Ishgard, the snow was simply falling lazily, which meant that her promise to meet Colette for sweets was likely still a go. Mood brightening, Rumi dropped by the Forgotten Knight’s Cloud Nine to stop by the room she had been granted so that she could change from her armor into something more fitting for a casual meeting between friends. Glad to be in something warmer, she began her walk to the Jeweled Crozier to meet up with her friend. While taking the street directly from the Knight would take her to the Pillars, she always found herself getting lost navigating the area. For her own sanity, she decided to take the road to the Pillars connected to Saint Reinette’s Forum – at least from there she’d be led directly to the Crozier.

The stairs to the Pillars seemed so close when something ruined what would have been an otherwise pleasant walk. Off to the side, she could see them – two new initiates into the Knights Dragoon. Just when she had thought that she hoped they wouldn’t see her, like a magnet their eyes locked onto hers. She picked up her pace, but the two young Elezen men were quick to bar her path.

“Ser Rumi, lovely to see you out and about.” The one that spoke was the slightly taller of the two, a boy by the name of Cillien. He was newer than even her amongst the dragoons, and so he had been very quick to dismiss the notion of a third Azure Dragoon, especially an outsider Miqo’te. He had a particular annoying attitude, if only because the way he spoke down to her reminded her of her brief stint with the Archery Guild in Gridania.

“A pleasure to see you too.” A lie. “If you would please excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She made to side-step around Cillien and his friend, but they quickly barred her path yet again. He bent down to speak to her, as if she were a child. “Now, now, couldn’t an  _ Azure Dragoon _ spare a bit of time to offer a couple of new recruits some sage advice?”

_ If you put your face any nyearer to mine I will smash your nose in like I did Silvairre’s. _ It was what she wanted to say, but she held it in. “I apologize, but we really do have to save this for another time. I have someone waiting for me.”

“Tch. Figures.” Cillien’s façade of respect dropped, “As if an outsider could really be an Azure Dragoon. Why they let you get away with claim-” Cillien’s friend went pale and tugged at his sleeve, and when the boy saw why, he paled. Rumi forked an eyebrow, noticing that the boy’s gaze had gone upwards and behind her. “S-Ser Estinien!” All of a sudden, Cillien and his friend were standing at attention.

Rumi looked over her shoulder to see that, yes, Estinien Wyrmblood, was behind her. From the looks of the windblown snow still plastered to his armor, she was willing to bet he had recently Returned. There was a measure of relief knowing he hadn’t done anything stupid in some attempt to be contrary. She could see his annoyance; his proximity to her allowed her a glance under his visor to see his steely eyes glaring at the initiates. “Outsider she may be, but her skills with a lance mark her my equal as an Azure Dragoon. I cannot say that you, however, can tell the back end of a lance from the front.”

The Miqo’te found herself just as astonished as the two boys that had blocked her path. There was no time to form an appropriate reaction as Estinien simply walked past them all without another word. Her gaze followed him, unsure as to what had just happened. There was grumbling from the other two young dragoons, who had seemed to abandon any attempt to pursue conversation with the Keeper and dejectedly skulked off. It was all well and good as far as she was concerned.

Estinien had… defended her? It certainly wasn’t needed, and she was certain he knew that too. Yet he stepped in anyways and told the initiates to back off.

Did it have something to do with their earlier exchange? After a moment of thought, she had concluded that it must have. After all, his doubts about her stemmed from the fact that he doubted her intentions in enlisting had good reason. And in turn, she found her own line of thinking about him to be shifting as well. It seemed, somehow, they had come to an understanding of sorts…

“Oy, Rumi!” Colette’s voice brought her back to the present, turning to see her friend bounding up behind her with a big grin. The Miqo’te smiled back. There’d be time for thinking about that sort of thing later. For now, it was time for cheesecake!

**Author's Note:**

> ... I don't like Silvairre. He was a asshole. That is all.


End file.
